Saturday, May 31, 2014

Holly J. Gill Pays A Visit

Please welcome Holly to our little corner of the interweb. She`s here to share some information on the fourth book in her Desires series.
Thank you Vicki for having me on your blog, promoting my forth book in the Desires series

Embracing Desires Blurb.

Dan and Stacie are preparing for the biggest day of their lives and everything is perfect. Stacie has her Hen night; Dan his stag night – both in Desires. Angel is being the wonderful host, but all is not what it seems. Five days before the wedding Dan and Stacie find themselves, devastated and destroyed, and on the brink of separation. Stacie feels that her life is falling apart. She cannot breathe or think because of the agony of losing Dan, the man she thought she could trust and spend the rest of her life with. Her world has been shattered. But Dan wants her back. Stacie longs to embrace what is important in her life. When she finds out the truth of what happened will it be too late to save the biggest embrace of all?


She called and waved at Mike when she saw him enter the bar. Mike made his way towards her as she grinned like a Cheshire cat, batted her eyelids, and took hold of his arm, snuggling into his chest “I need a huge favour,” she told him.

“What is that, sexy?”

“I need to swap an item of clothing with you,” she explained while lifting her head to look into his huge blue eyes.

“Any suggestions?” He waggled his brows, adding a grin.

“I think your underwear,” Chrissie spoke out. Stacie turned to her, looking horrified at such a suggestion. No way was she about to remove her skirt and show the restaurant her pussy, but if truth be told hardly anyone would notice. After all, this was Desires.

Stacie hid behind a large musical note chair and removed her tutu. That’s when she noticed Mike’s bare backside. He took off his trunks without any hesitation, clearly used to being naked. She rolled her eyes giggling. He passed her his trunks as she passed him her skirt. She put his trunks on and felt like an idiot because it was too big for her. She came out and saw Mike struggling to get her small tutu on and she was worried he would ruin it. She whipped off her tiara and placed that in his hair and he stood proud with his cock on full show, parading his assets. Mike didn’t care. He strutted around the restaurant without a care in the world, but again when she glanced around, many men had their genitals out so he was nothing out of the ordinary.

Mike arrived back, smiling and shaking his head. “Well that was entertaining.”


 Author Biography


A wife and mother of three, Holly J. Gill is a romance writer whose favorite genre is erotica. She has three books published with Secret Cravings called the Desires series about a sex club and how two people go through the trials of falling in love. In Holly’s spare time she loves spending time with her family, friends, listen to music, watch movies, and travel around England enjoying the beautiful countryside.


Buy Links:


Links to me:


Thursday, May 29, 2014

Throwback Thursday Tune

Don`t forget to drop a comment if you like the selection this week.

I`m also open to suggestions if you have a tune that is near and dear to your heart. Or, if you just want to chat about how awesomely cool Stevie Nix is that`s cool as well. I so wanted to be her when I was a teenager. Did anyone not own a copy of Rumors?

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Please Welcome Layna Pimental

Today Layna Pimental is here to share some information about her new historical romance, A Gentleman Always Finds Out. What a beautiful cover, and what a handsome gentleman! 


Historical Romance w/some sensuality (3 flame)
Short Story/Novella
Word Count: 19,000/ 59 pages

Ruined and jilted, Mariah Harris, with her cousin, plots against the rogue who dared to insult her and her family. What she doesn’t expect is for their plan to lead them astray…on the wrong side of the law.

Julian Kingsley is ready to give up working for the crown, only he’s given one last mission. He agrees, but gets more than he bargains for. When a dalliance with a mysterious woman suddenly reveals her connections to his case, he’s honor bound to turn her in, but his heart can’t seem to give her up.

May 15, 1816
London, England

“Edwina Mosley, you are out of your ever-loving mind! We look like…You are dressed as a strumpet and well…I am in breeches. I look far too feminine to be a man!” Mariah Harris scowled and clenched her fists at her sides. This whole plot was idiotic, and if they were not thrown in Newgate, they would certainly end up in Bedlam.

“Yes, of course, dear. I thought you understood our plan from the beginning. It is a sound one, cousin. Once I stop the messenger and beg his assistance, you will sneak out of those bushes and snatch his bag,” Edwina retorted with a drawl. “My sources have informed me that he passes through here every night at the same time. So, we shall not be waiting long.”

How can she be so sure? Mariah gritted her teeth and curled her toes in irritation. “If there was ever a moment I regret, it was telling you about this mess with Crispin. I only meant to find out where he is staying in London and who with. My poor father is convinced he will come back, but if he does, it will only be for food and shelter.” Nothing more. He had successfully made Mariah the largest fool in all of Kent. That blasted scoundrel!

“Mariah, I am positive this plan will work. Once the satchel is in our possession, we will rifle through for anything addressed to Crispin. From there, you will be free to humiliate the stupid sod and carry on with your life. Now, stop being a ninny and go hide. Hurry! I think I hear a horse.”
Mariah wandered into the shrubbery, hoping she did not step on an adder, or even worse, walk through a spider’s web.Good heavens, if papa ever found out I dressed in a man’s riding outfit, he would send me away to a nunnery for certain.

A few moments passed before the sound of a galloping horse approached. The beast slowed his gait by trotting as he grew closer, coming to a halt where Edwina stood next to a wagon.

She pleaded in a tone befitting a damsel in distress, “Please, sir. I am in need of assistance. I implore you. I should have been home hours ago, but the cart…”

“Say no more, miss. I will see what I can do.” the messenger stated plainly. “Should I dare ask how long you have been stranded for?”

“Only for an hour, sir. I am on my way to London and thought to stop in Maidstone for the night.”

When Mariah popped her head out, she spotted the young man climbing down from his mount. Off in the distance, a rickety cart approached, the driver swaying in his seat. Now, we are were done for. Before they had left her shop, Edwina had managed to convince her that this road was not much travelled on after dark. Only the gent delivering messages from the militia in the north would be expected. What were the odds—on this particular night—that another traveler would pass through?

Sliding the sack off his shoulder, the messenger crouched down by the rear wheel of the pony wagon she and her cousin had sabotaged.

Not long after, Mariah heard the trundling of the other cart squeal until it came to a stop. A middle-aged man stumbled out, falling flat on his face. Too foxed to drive successfully, he clearly would not pose a problem to the scenario.

Now is my chance. Mariah leapt out of the bushes and, while everyone was too distracted in aiding the sotted fool, she grabbed the bag before running back to her hiding spot. Only this time, she did not stop. She ran like the devil until she found the meadow in which she had left her own clothing and horse.

Heart racing, she dropped the cap her long hair had been tucked into, kicked off her shoes, and quickly stripped out of the breeches and loose-fitting shirt she wore. Then, she slipped on her cream-colored riding gown and strapped the satchel to the mare, covering it with the blanket she had used to conceal her dress while in disguise.

She wasted no time taking her place in the saddle. Wrapping her cape around her shoulders, she shifted the side so that it hid the blanket as well before riding back to the inn where she planned on meeting with Edwina. It would be a miracle if they were not caught after this ludicrous theft.
The only visual she retained during the trip was the gallows, and it was that image which kept her from slowing her pace. She had never committed a crime before, and this would take the bucket as far as mischief went. Never in all her twenty-one years had she stooped so low. It was unprecedented, outlandish, and completely unforgivable.

Leave it to the man she had foolishly thought she was in love with. No one could drive her to the brink of madness like Crispen. His words meant nothing. In hindsight, his pledge of love and fidelity was meaningless. His ploy to get under her skirts had worked, and now she was ruined.

In return, Mariah would ruin him. And I cannot wait to see his face when he is discovered.

Born and raised in Toronto, Ontario, Layna discovered her love of reading at an early age. When she isn’t devouring salacious romance novels or writing, she enjoys losing herself in researching ancient history and mythology, weaponry, and hiking. She lives in Northern Ontario, with her husband and two daughters.
Layna is a member of the Romance Writers of America, creator of the Romance Author at Large blog, and is a monthly contributor at 69 Shades of Smut. For updates on her upcoming releases, or to leave her a comment, you can find at:


Want to be the first to catch some sneak peeks into my upcoming releases, subscribe to my newsletter here:

Monday, May 26, 2014

Tuesday Tales - Author

Welcome to Tuesday Tales! This week I`ll be sharing excerpts from my 2013 NaNoWriMo novel, Laco Law – The Gnarled Oak. Laco Law is an M/M historical western romance, set in the fictional county of Laco, Texas in 1867.

This week our word prompt 'Author’. In this excerpt Clayton and Zeke`s search for Boyden ends.

A note for my readers:  This is a gay romance novel, and so the romance that occurs is man on man. If this is not your cup of tea, no one will think less of you if you read no further.

 As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!

A Negro lad appeared in the yard. He was carrying a slop bucket. He paused, scanned the grounds, and upon sighting us, went about his duty after throwing his shaved head in the direction of the rear door. We wasted no time in gaining access to the kitchen. Angry voices now echoed through the house. The food preparation area was large, neat, and thankfully empty. A wide door hung open. My deputy and I framed it, each looking out into the corridor.

The shouting grew louder. A young man replied. He was slapped soundly. I pointed at the hall with my Henry. Zeke slipped out of the kitchen, his revolver handle tickling his fingertips. The house smelled of lemon wax. I stepped out into the corridor. Soft crying could be heard ahead. The adult, a deep-voiced man with a thick lisp, asked the whimpering child if he understood how bad he had been. The lad answered in the affirmative. I ran my sights over the hall, searching for a door that would lead to the basement.

“Lower your panth, William,” the lisper commanded. Zeke looked back at me. We went into the study shoulder to shoulder. One wall was filled with books, the author`s golden names glowing in the lamplight.  The boy spied us first. He drew back in fright. The lisper, a reedy man in a finely tailored suit of dark grey with wild golden hair, spun around when I spoke.

“I`d suggest you drop that,” I said, my eyes on the bullwhip he clutched in his pale hand. “Furthermore, I suggest you turn to face the wall with your hands behind your back. I`m placing you under arrest for various acts of depravity and vice,” I informed the man. 

He seemed torn for a moment, as if he contemplated using the whip in his hand upon us. My rifle, and Ezekiel`s revolvers, aimed at a spot between his shifting eyes nudged him into making a sound decision. The whip tumbled from his fingers. He turned to face the wall. The boy cried out a warning.

 Zeke and I dropped instantly. An oil painting blew apart when a bullet slammed into it. I dove for the young boy. My arm went around his waist. We rolled towards the nearest shelter, a large settee. Shielding the child the best I could, I rose up, found the open doorway and then fired in the general direction of the door. Zeke had taken refuge behind a table that was far too small to protect him. The man in the doorway fired into the room. I heard footfalls as well as the lisping man shouting orders to his underlings.

“Where is the lesson room?” I asked the cowering boy at my side. Zeke was peppering the doorway with shots. The young man pointed a crooked finger at the door that we now fought over. His hand was nothing but a claw, not unlike the hands of the elderly. I thanked him, told him to keep his head down until he knew it to be safe, then meet the other boys at the barn. He covered his head with skinny arms and hands that were swelled at the joints. I found Zeke reloading his revolver. We looked at each other. I stood up after a brief silent glance. My Henry decimated the doorframe as well as the wall in the corridor. Zeke used my cover fire to slip around the doorframe. He put a neat hole in the head of one of the lisping man`s underlings.

“Follow me!” I barked to my deputy, shoving bullets into my rifle as we ran towards the end of the corridor. We were fired upon several times, and spent a few tense moments crammed into a small closet that contained canned goods. We both fell to our knees when a mason jar of beets exploded all over us and the closet. Zeke went high, I went low, and we managed to get to the basement door. The door was solidly locked. I put my boot beside the knob twice. When it buckled but remained locked, I used the Henry to pick the damned lock. 

Zeke dropped another henchman as I shot the lock. I kicked at the doorframe. A sharp crack echoed down the smoke-filled hallway. The acidic stench of gunpowder was strong. Zeke went first, as he was out of ammunition. I fired thrice into the gloom of a smoky hall then rushed down a dark set of stairs. The air was cooler down here, moister. I ran into Zeke.

“It`s locked,” he hissed, rattling a knob in the darkness.

“Break it down.” Children on the other side were calling out for assistance. “Break it down now!” I shouted as the heavy trample of men running upstairs reverberated down to us in the basement.

I was rudely shoved aside. The dull sound of a man`s shoulder hitting a door filled the small area. The second attempt to bust down the door loosened the hinges. The fourth impact tore the nails from the frame. The hinges screamed. The door fell inward, the bottom hinge hanging fast despite its pummeling. A soft glow blinded the two of us for a moment. I called for my nephew, my heart hammering behind my ribs in fear that he would not be here. If the boy had indeed been sent overseas I did not know how I would . . .

“Uncle Clayton?”

I pushed around Zeke wrestling his way through the young men that had bubbled out of their lesson room like ants from a disrupted hill. The room was a tiny, stinking, underground pit. A lone kerosene lamp burned. Beds were blankets on the damp ground. The outhouse was an overflowing spittoon in the center of the room. Boyden was seated on a blanket, his eyes wide with fright, his cheeks hollow from poor feed. His sandy-blond hair was lank and hung around his gaunt face. I tripped as I rushed over to gather the boy into my arms. He stank terribly. I held him to me as tightly as I could. We both wept uncontrollably.

 Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey


Click on the link below to return to the Tuesday Tales main blog for more great reads from the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.

See you next week with more from the old West!

Happy Memorial Day

Honoring those who serve.

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Liza O`Connor Pays a Visit

Liza shares why Dani never had a date since Junior High School before Sam showed up.
It certainly wasn’t because she wasn’t pretty. She was one of the two prettiest girls in Jr. High. The other was Andrea Collins. The two girls couldn’t have been more different. Andrea wore overly sweet perfume, padded bras, mini-skirts and four inch high heels.  Her red hair was truly red and she loved the boys. 

Dani wore no makeup, favored her gramp’s old cowboy hats, bluejeans and T-shirts. She either wore tennis shoes or cowboy boots. She was very shy and tended to study her feet when a boy approached.

One other detail you need to know. The two girls hated each other.
Here’s an excerpt from the book when Dani talks about her past with Trent (Trevor).

 “I take it you don’t like Andrea.”
“Nope. She stole my crayons in kindergarten, my homework in middle school, my boyfriend in junior high, and my reputation in sophomore year by telling everyone she’d seen Cougar and me doing it under the bleachers, which was a bald-faced lie, but Cougar bragged he had, so everyone believed it.”
Trent squeezed her hand, wishing he could give her support. Dani’s life was hard and she needed a hug. However, Sam wouldn’t appreciate Trent doing the job for him.
“Thank you for removing Andrea from my GPS. While she caused you a great deal of pain in the past, karma has clearly set matters right. You’ve become a successful young business woman and a fabulous person. Andrea, on the other hand, wears god-awful perfumes, has fallen to one of the worst professions there is, and I suspect Cougar is probably one of her customers.”
Dani squeezed his hand in return. “He and half the town. She only charges ten dollars, so most of the males seek her out.”
“Well then, karma has given her the life she tried to give you.”

Later Dani explains more to Trent

“Do you remember meeting Cougar?”
“Big, muscular bully?”

“That’s the one. He was Denton High’s all-time high-scoring football player. Get him the ball and he’d run right over the opposing team. I remember one game where he crossed the goal line dragging three defensive players along like burlap bags.”
“Was he as big as he is now?”
“Actually, bigger. While he denies it, I’m pretty sure he used steroids growing up. He slimmed down two years ago when the state troopers arrested the local supplier of steroids and sent him to prison for the other fine drugs he handled. I expect Cougar will swell again once the criminal gets released.”
“Please don’t tell me you liked him.”
Her eyes rounded in outrage. “Hated him. However, once he claimed I was his girl, no other boys would speak to me, in fear of their lives. So Sam is the first guy I’ve dated since junior high.”
“You mean, even after you graduated, no one would date you?”
“Sam’s the only one.”
“Did you try dating people outside of Denton?”
“I don’t have time to go bar hopping. I have my own place to tend.”
“So Sam was your first?”
She stood up and walked away. “That’s none of your business.”
Trent stared at her in confusion. Why did his question make her angry? Clearly, she had misunderstood him. Mentally, he ran through his words and how they might be taken.
“Oh! I don’t want to know about your first time. I asked if Sam was your first adult boyfriend.”
She returned and sat beside him, covering her face with her hands. “Sorry and yes, Sam is my first adult boyfriend, although I often question the word ‘adult’.”
Trent laughed as he recalled many of Sam’s temper tantrums over the years. “Perfectly normal. That’s the general consensus about all men.”
“Honestly, I’m not really sure how Sam ranks in relation to other guys.”
“I’d call him a catch. He’s got a lot of good qualities.”
“So do you”
Trent shook his head. “I’m not there yet.”
(Insert cover)
Climbing Out of Hell 
 Book 4 of the series
A Long Road to Love
Romantic Comedy
Billionaire Trent Lancaster has destroyed his relationship with the only woman who ever loved him. Now we discover the full truth of what happened. 
He actually had reasons for his behaviors.
Still, there is no going back. Trent has lost Carrie forever, but he would rather die than marry Coco, so he does just that. Trent gives away most of his possessions, fakes his death, and starts over with a new face and a better attitude in a small town in Iowa where his half-brother Sam is sheriff.
Losing his true love has fundamentally broken Trent to his core. His only chance for happiness is to become the better man Carrie had always seen inside him.
True change is not easy. Can Trent grow up and become a man we can love?

Released May 1, 2014
Book Four of the series:
A Long Road to Love
Climbing out of Hell
 “Easily, the best of the series!”

Other books in the A Long Road to Love series
Book One
Worst Week Ever
“Love this book and couldn't stop laughing from beginning to end.” 5 stars – Alves - Amazon

Book Two
Oh Stupid Heart
“Be warned though, this book is completely different from The Worst Week Ever. Yes, there is still humor, dry wit, situations that you would think...NOT AGAIN but this one humanizes Trent more.” 5 stars - Brian’s Mom – Amazon

Book Three
Coming to Reason
Once again, Ms. O’Connor has written a brilliant book about the complexities of relationships, good and bad. Again, to me, the book is the best break up book EVER and it left my heart singing in the end. Best.Book.Ever…

Other Books by Liza O’Connor

Liza O’Connor
Author Bio:
Liza lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels. She loves to create interesting characters, set them loose, and scribe what happens.


Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter for the $50 Gift Card.
Plus, at each stop 1 commenter who requests a book and leaves their email will win one of the following:
Worst Week Ever
Oh Stupid Heart
Coming to Reason
Ghost Lover

Rafflecopter code
Use what you need and remove the rest

Html for Rafflecopter for Blogger sites:

Link for Word Press: 

Link to my rafflecopter on my blog

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Throwback Thursday Tune

They`re the Beatles.  They`re animated. And they`re singing!

Has any movie ever been as trippy? Drop a comment if you think things were a lot more technicolor back in the sixties.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Lydia Michaels Returns

I`m tickled to be able to welcome Lydia back to our happy little corner of the interweb. She`s here to fill us in on her new M/M release, Forsaking Truth.


Title: Forsaking Truth {McCullough Mountain 5}

Author: Lydia Michaels

Genre: Erotic Romance (MM)

Heat Level: Romance (graphic) (MM)

Book Length: 224 pages

Date of Publication: May 5, 2014 (Available on Amazon, B&N, etc. 5/13/14)

(Please Note: ARCs can be provided for previous titles in a series upon request)

Cover (PDF Attached)


His greatest conflict in life is that another man loves him unconditionally. He’ll forsake everything before he’ll come to face who he truly is.

When Luke McCullough’s athletic potential is diminished by a field injury, his pride pays the price. Returned to Center County a broken man, the long road to recovery seems dreary and overshadowed by opportunities lost, until he meets Tristan Hughes.

Tristan came to Center County to escape his past and start anew, but nothing prepared him for Luke. Intrigued, Tristan cautiously gets to know this powerful man, only to fall head over heels for the vulnerable soul hiding behind all that intensity and drive.

Luke has never been interested in men, so when he can’t get Tristan out of his head he doubles his efforts to fight the inevitable. Stolen glances lead to heated encounters, followed by punishing regret, but Luke’s inability to face the truth of who he really is may cost him the only happiness he’s ever known.

Buy Links:

Excerpt: (Adult Language)

He stepped close and his palm curled around the back of Luke’s neck. A split second later—too quick to pull back—Tristan’s lips met his.
Luke grunted and jerked away at the first stroke of the other guy’s tongue. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I…I thought you wanted me to. You touched me.”
He frowned. No he didn’t. Yes. You fucking did. You’re still touching him. He jerked his hand away. It was the beer! Shit, he needed to lay off the drinking.
“Luke, look, it’s okay. I just thought with everything today—the shower—clearly I misread—”
“Are you dating my cousin?” he suddenly blurted.
“What? No. Ryan’s straight.” Tristan’s answer shouldn’t have relieved him, but it did.
“You’re gay?”
Luke was distracted as Tristan took a deep breath.  Tanned skin shadowed with hair drew his gaze to the cut of his chest glistening with a hint of sweat or maybe spilt beer. “Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be an issue. If you aren’t interested, we can act like nothing happened here and just go back to five minutes ago.”
“Does Ryan know you’re gay?”
“Yeah. He’s fine with it. Most people are. It’s not like I openly maul anything with a dick. I have a specific taste.”
“Well…” He turned and forked a hand through his hair. “You’re very handsome. Christ, I already saw you naked.”
And for some reason Luke had purposely made sure he’d seen him. He wanted him to look, like it was some pissing match or something. Thinking back, it was stupid and nothing like he’d ever done before.
“I’ll go,” Tristan said, grabbing his soiled shirt.
Luke caught his arm. “Wait.”
“For what, Luke? I clearly misread the situation.”
“Did you think I was gay?”
“No, but then…I don’t know. I thought maybe you were bi. You hear things about football players playing grab ass in the locker rooms and shit. I don’t know what the fuck I thought. Then you touched me and I just…stopped thinking.”
“You like being with men?” Well, no shit. That’s pretty much what it was to be gay. He couldn’t fathom it. Did Tristan take the top or bottom? He didn’t look gay, whatever that looked like.
“What do you do with them?”
“Jesus, Luke, everything. What do you want to know?”
“Does it hurt?”
“Fuck no. It feels fantastic.”
He stepped back, needing to do something, but not the type to fidget. “Have you ever been with a woman?”
Tristan’s expression became serious. “No. It’s always been guys.”
“This is crazy. I need a beer.” He turned and pulled out a new bottle. He’s fucking gay.
Luke never met a gay person that he knew of. He lived in Center County, not the most liberal place. “Man, you picked the wrong town to move to.”
“Tell me where the right town is.” Tristan stepped into the den. “I’m just another guy, Luke. I just wanna work and live and have the right to the same happiness everyone else is looking for in this fucked up world.”
Luke’s gaze moved over his chest. There were over a dozen scars. “That’s why your dad beat you, for being gay?”
“Yeah.” There was so much gravity in that one little word something in Luke broke.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. Taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. No matter how hard someone hits me, or shuns me, or calls me ugly names, I’m still me. They don’t have to like it. They don’t have to live with it, but I do. And I refuse to be something I’m not.”
Luke dropped into the chair. “How old were you?”
“When I realized I was gay? Probably four.”
“No, when your dad did that to you.”
“Eighteen. Five days later my lover tried to kick the shit out of me in front of the whole school and called me everything he was afraid to call himself. Three months later I left for college and never looked back.”
Holy shit. “Did you ever think it would be easier to be straight?”
“I’ve thought lots of things. Sometimes I think it would be fun to fly, but that doesn’t make it possible.”
“No women?”
“No. Only men.”
“I’m not gay.” Luke stated, needing to hear the affirmation.
Tristan nodded. “And that’s cool. I didn’t mean to…”
The silence stretched between them. Finally, Tristan said, “I’m gonna take off.”
“Okay.” He was in a daze. This was some heavy shit.
“Thanks for…”
“Thanks for your help.”
They nodded at one another and Tristan slipped on his wet shirt. A moment later the door closed.
Luke sat there for probably five minutes just digesting everything. He liked Tristan. A lot. Just not in any sort of romantic way. He didn’t swing that way. He liked pussy. He was a boob man or maybe a leg man. Definitely wasn’t a gay man.
He stood and went to hit the lights. He was way past the legal limit and needed to sleep. Maybe things would be clearer in the morning.
He dropped the empties in the bin and went to lock up. As he approached the door it suddenly opened. He stilled and Tristan stepped back in. Why was he back? His return sent a rush of blood pumping through Luke’s veins and his breathing picked up.
“I don’t have a car here.”
Right. He’d picked him up. “I’ve been drinking.”
“I could call a cab.”
“Or you could crash here.” He hadn’t thought about his offer, it just slipped out.
“Or I could crash here.”
Luke stared at him and waited. Sure, Tristan could crash. He could sleep on the recliner. Luke swallowed. He felt like he was doing something very wrong. Part of him was glad he couldn’t drive. So glad, that when the thought of calling Sheilagh and asking her to take Tristan back to his Aunt Rosemarie’s popped in his head, he immediately shoved it away.
“I was about to hit the sack anyway,” he said.
Tristan nodded. “You got an extra blanket?”
“Yeah. I’ll grab it. Make yourself comfortable.”
He went to the closet in the hall and pulled out a spare blanket. When he turned, Tristan was in the den, kicking off his boots. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Luke. Listen, I’m sorry about all this. I hope—”
Luke slammed his lips to Tristan’s mouth. He didn’t know who was more shocked, him or Tristan. All he knew was the thought of Tristan, who’d taken his fair share of beatings for only being who he was, apologizing to him, cut him apart. He silenced him the only way he knew how.

Author Bio:

Award winning author, Lydia Michaels, writes all forms of hot romance. She presses the bounds of love and surprises readers just when they assume they have her stories figured out. From Amish vampyres, to wild Irishmen, to broken heroes, and heroines no man can match, Lydia takes readers on an emotional journey of the heart, mind, and soul with every story she pens. Her books are intellectual, erotic, haunting, always centered on love.

Lydia Michaels loves to hear from readers! She can be contacted by email at

Other Titles by Lydia Michaels:

Falling In
Breaking Out
Coming Home
Sacred Waters
Faking It
Forsaking Truth
As Tears Go By
Simple Man
Breaking Perfect
White Chocolate
All 4 You
To Catch a Wolfe
Chasing Feathers
Called to Order
Calling for a Miracle
Destiny Calls
Call Her Mine